


Alone Together

by Remifuckingrich



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluffy as hell, I just had a lot of feelings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 01:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2047809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remifuckingrich/pseuds/Remifuckingrich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky was back and he was gone all at once. Maybe some times Steve would look at him, talk to him, and he would be responsive. He’d flash a smile, make some cynical joke and for a little bit Steve could forget Bucky had been robbed from him. But then there were those times when there was just nothing behind those brown eyes. Nothing but rage, malice and hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone Together

Bucky was back and he was gone all at once. Maybe some times Steve would look at him, talk to him, and he would be responsive. He’d flash a smile, make some cynical joke and for a little bit Steve could forget Bucky had been robbed from him. But then there were those times when there was just nothing behind those blue eyes. Nothing but rage, malice and hurt. Steve wasn’t sure how he had done it. Between the past and the present he had witnessed his fair share of the world’s worst. Seeing kids die screaming in agony on hospital cots wasn’t and easy picture to erase. Neither was New York, however outlandish that whole adventure was. Yet he was still sane. Maybe the serum had hardened his mind; made him less susceptible to the sort of torture Bucky suffered. He couldn’t fathom what went through his head day after day.

 

Bucky floated like a ghost. Neither dead nor alive, he just didn’t belong. Only Natasha really was willing to forget things and that was because they had a history. It burned Steve to admit she might know Bucky better because she knew _this_ Bucky – the present Bucky. All Steve had to go off of were memories of late nights on the town and watching him die. Was there even a chance of forging new memories? Bucky still seemed so fragile. They kept him hidden in the catacomb of STARK Tower because there was always that chance he was still a threat. His brain could short circuit any time and he could go back to the weapon of mass destruction HYDRA had so graciously turned him to. Steve only halfheartedly held on to this notion. Because every time he looked at what had been The Winter Soldier he saw sad blue eyes, pouty pink lips and all of it shrouded by a mop of brown hair. Far from making him weary it just made him smile. One of those soft lingering smiles of admiration.

 

Many had told him to let Bucky alone and allow him to find himself. For the first few days as Fury accepted Bucky into SHIELD and he started rehabilitating, Steve had kind of taken the advice. He didn’t visit too often, their interactions limited to Steve checking up on him. He’d come into his room, which felt more like a holding cell, and try to talk to him. Steve usually just ended up offering him things. His favorite food, some records if he still had a taste for swing. Sometimes he would accept and they’d sit there eating Hershey’s Chocolate listening to Sinatra and in those moments Steve felt like he was on cloud nine. Those were good days and on bad days Steve gave him his space.

 

More and more he couldn’t help himself. He missed Bucky, wanted so desperately to catch up. What was probably hundreds of questions were on his tongue and he wanted to ask them all at once. But if that wasn’t alright he’d settle for just sitting with him in silence. He just wanted Bucky there. He was scared that, at any moment, he might be gone again.

 

Recently Steve had taken to joining Bucky on his visits to some SHIELD scientist. They were studying him, something Bucky was probably familiar with and so he didn’t seem to mind. The effects of Zola’s syrum were unknown. The only thing that could be ascertained for sure was that it was most likely a variant of Steve’s own Super Soldier Syrum. It was different, though, more prone to feeding off negative emotions as it interacted with the brain. They, of course, were only interested in the physical effects. Bucky just kind of sat there while they took blood samples, pulling hair or swabbing the inside of his cheek sometimes. He just looked so bored there on that examination table. Steve stood outside the examination room, watching him through the window.

 

That smile crept onto his face and grew and grew the more the stood there. Bucky’s expression ready clearly ‘Damn, I am so tired of their bullshit.” Steve just knew too that’s what was going through his mind. Every sigh and yawn and gesture just read DONE. Then Steve went from amusement to epiphany.

 

“Fury wants him.”, Steve barked.

 

He had surged into the room, hopefully painted with urgency. He felt kind of bad for being so rude and thought about tacking on a ‘please’ at the end of there but they would surely see he was lying then. He was already rubbish enough. He figured that, if he spoke as little as possible, there was less of a likely hood he’d get caught.

 

The doctors looked around in confusion, like they were expecting Fury to come in as well and validate things. They reminded him of lost ducklings. They needed mama duck fury.

 

“Captain, sir. We have direct orders –“, one of them attempted

 

“Trust me.” Steve said, already over by Bucky, nudging off the table and handing him his shirt, “ You’ll wanna pass on those.”

 

They didn’t question him and, even if they had wanted to, the two of them were out the door and down the hall so fast. Steve didn’t give anything away until they got into the elevator. When the door closed he snickered.

 

“Steve…What’re you doing?” Bucky was starting to que in that something was up.

 

“ We’re gonna go to my place.” Just that thought made Steve so happy, he beamed at Bucky, “Maybe see the city a little.”

 

“ I thought it wasn’t authorized for me to be anywhere but here.”

 

A part of Bucky probably didn’t want to leave. Since the fabric of his entire perceived life had just unwoven mere months before, he could hold on to this bit of familiarity. His little tiled square cell of a room was safe and in there his mind didn’t wander too much. He stared at the floor, perhaps a bit on the verge of a panic attack as he just wanted to go back. Until he felt Steve’s hand on his shoulder. He looked up and right into those blue eyes of his. They always calmed him, got him to listen to reason.

 

“Bucky, trust me.” And he did, without hesitation, “You need to get out of here.”

 

He started to smile until the elevator tweeted a little ding and the glass doors opened up. They emerged out into an empty hallway lined with nothing but doors. Bucky didn’t know where they were but he figured Steve did. He just followed behind the blonde, observing his surroundings.

 

This was nothing more than a service corridor. Behind the doors were various offices and more mysterious things were behind others. It was the part of Stark Tower that was the cover for all the other subversive government operations that went on here. It also happened to be the nearest you could get through the lobby. It had no windows and, for all intents and purposes, look like nothing from the outside. However, it was a convenient escape route. Steve had to think that Tony was paranoid or something, there were little secret passages, like the one he would eventually come upon, all over this place. He walked to a door obscurely place and attempted to open it.

 

He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He hadn’t thought at all, really, but had been pretty confident in his ability to just wing it. To open the door, someone’s finger print had to be scanned and a code needed to be punched in. That first part was easy, there wasn’t any place Cap wasn’t allowed to go, but the second offered a little trouble….Until Bucky just reached around him. There was a loud bang as he punched the door once and it opened right up.

 

“Thank you.” Steve grinned before heading in.

 

The door hadn’t led to a room, it was just a ladder. The two of them painstakingly climbed down a story. Steve had gone first and periodically he’d look up to see Bucky peering down. Mostly, though, he was staring at his butt. He was an ass man and always had been. He tried not to blush as he was embarrassed by his own thoughts.

 

They reached the bottom and Bucky opened up that door as well. It was midafternoon and the sun cast a diagonal shadow upon the ground of this alleyway. The sky was starting to turn pink but the brightness still hurt Bucky’s eyes. He had spent too much time in that tower and he didn’t have shades. Not the ideal situation. He looked around and something felt familiar.

 

 He’d feel like that sometimes. Amidst all the confusion in his warring mind, little tastes of nostalgia would visit him. He would remember a song or remember certain habits of Rogers. He often re-hashed stories with Natasha the few times she’d come to see him. But that wasn’t as exciting as the times he was with Steve and something would just click. The time he spent working with the Russians was sure in his memory. Steve wasn’t. Something him as a whole was familiar, and he felt at a comfortable ease around him, but some of the things he said he didn’t understand, didn’t have all the answers to questions.

 

But this little alleyway was something he’d seen before. He was sure it looked like any other corner of New York but just on the cusp of realization was _something_.

 

\-------

 

_Ya just don’t know when to give up, do you?_

_I can do this all day._

 

_Sometimes I think you like getting punched._

 

_I had him on the ropes._

 

_Oh, so now you’re from Paramas?_

 

_Did you get your orders?_

 

_…..The 107 th….Seargent James Barnes_

 

<center>\------</center>

“Bucky.” Steve’s voice punctured his little bubble. “Come on.”

 

They left the alleyway and immediately were trying to make it through a crowd of people going in the opposite direction. You definitely went with the flow in New York, especially if you didn’t want to get cussed out. And they got their fair share of “you fucking idiot” and “c’mon I’m walking here” yelled at them but it didn’t seem to matter. They struggled past everyone and it seemed like that was the most fun Steve had had since Fury found him. He hadn’t even realized it but he was holding Bucky’s hand. The metal of his fingers was cool against his skin. He had had a weird fascination with touching Bucky’s arm but had never tried because, in addition to it being a bit bizarre, he might’ve been over stepping his boundaries. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting it to feel like. Now it was just smooth, polished metal under his fingers. As he clutched into it tightly, he could feel it grow warm, stealing all the heat from his skin. Steve didn’t let go as they came to an interception. He didn’t plan on letting go of Bucky unless he asked.

 

He looked back at his friend and he seemed to be more interested in what was around him. He’d been to New York hundreds of times in the present but had never really looked. It was an interesting comparison, Times Square now and Times Square then. Mostly it was just really the same. People shuffled across sidewalks and intersections, no one man paying mind to the other. It was so impersonal and, even with his arm now gleaming in the afternoon sun, Bucky felt comfortable in his own skin. He got to see a lot of the inner city as they made their way to the Burroughs.

 

Steve’s apartment wasn’t right in the middle of all that chaos, he might not have been able to sleep at night if it was. Nestled among brick faced houses all lined up, rectangles in a row, was his apartment building. It was nice but, more than that, Steve had just wanted it to be in a place he was familiar with. New York was a lot bigger and he had found himself lost a few times. Not far from here was where he grew up, where he spent days palling around with Bucky. It brought back good memories.

 

The two of them passed through the lobby and into the elevator before getting to Steve’s door. He unlocked it quickly and let them in.

 

“Sorry it’s such a mess.” There wasn’t too much he could do about it now but it was polite to apologize, “I should’ve cleaned up or something.”

 

It wasn’t too bad. Here and there were scattered records which had been abandoned once Steve had worked out how to use a computer. Everyone in a while, just to hear the scratch of that needle and the warm buzzing of static, he’d use his record player but, for now, all those things were haphazardly arranged on his coffee table. He hurried a little to pick up as many clothes as he could and stash away the ones he couldn’t. He motioned to the couch for Bucky to sit and he drifted there, sitting right in the middle.

 

“So uh…”

 

There was a silence between them now. They hadn’t quite worked back into that familiar place. Steve and Bucky had always just clicked form the beginning and, even if they weren’t talking, they were still in harmony. He felt a bit awkward now and Bucky just stared at him blankly. Steve tried to figure out what to say.

 

“I know! You wanna watch a movie?”, that was as good an offer as any.

 

Bucky blinked slowly and Steve was viable to have a mini heart attack the way his eyelashes swept across his cheek.

 

“Sure.” A little smile graced his face, “I haven’t seen one in seventy years.”

 

“Trust me.” Steve laughed, starting a hunt for a DVD, “It’s unbelievable what movies are now.

 

The first movie he’d seen in 3-D freaked him out.

 

He liked the modern rendition of Batman and so chose one of those movies. It was kind of dark for a children’s comic book character but he supposed the Dark Knight had evolved throughout time. They all had. Captain America was nothing more than a ploy to sell war bonds. Then he was this hero and now Steve wanted little to do with it. He protected his country because he loved it but could do without the spot light. He could remember when Batman was first serialized – man he felt old.

 

Steve placed the disk into the DVD player before disappearing into his kitchen. Bucky probably knew more about present day technology than Steve did. He pressed play as the title sequence started and the camera panned over the gloomy city of Gotham. He and Steve had been avid readers when they were younger. In 1939, the year Batman was first serialized, life was probably as good as it would get for a while. The world wasn’t at way and the Great depression was finally over. They could actually afford to buy comics because they weren’t scrounging around for food. It entranced them. It became both of their dreams to become a hero. Only one of them really got to live it. Bucky saw himself become the villain and there was nothing he could do about it.

 

He narrowed his eyes at the screen looking at Steve when he came back. He had popcorn and two beers, one of which he tossed to Bucky. It’d been a while since he’d had a cold one too and not even warm Vodka could beat the taste of a good beer. He cracked it open as Steve sat down and they just set there together, pretending to watch this movie.

 

For a little bit Steve was able to focus and maybe take things in but then he started to get bothered. Why had he sat down so far away from Bucky? From the corner of his eye he glanced at him over and over and over again as if he would somehow magically appear in his lap. He felt helpless and a bit foolish clinging to this man as he was. The attraction was just so strong, however, that it was hopeless to try to fight it. Steve did a lot of pining these days at the expense of his peace of mind. It was all he could do, though. It still wasn’t clear what aspects Bucky could and could not recall. They’d been nothing but friendly on a very basic level. Sometimes Steve got familiar and placed a hand on his shoulder or his chest and that was okay in some moments and not others. What Steve wanted to do right now, though was just hold him. Hold him and apologize for having ever allowed this to happen. Bucky was a good person. Sometimes he got himself into trouble but he was good, a good kid. No man deserved that sort of torture, deserved to have his humanity taken and be turned into a weapon, least of all James Barnes.

 

In all his thinking Steve didn’t notice he was staring at Bucky. It took him even longer to realize Bucky was starting back. He couldn’t look away, not even if he tried and it looked like Bucky was searching for something. His blue eyes searched Steve’s face, his brows knitted ever so slightly in concentration. What was he looking for?

 

Bucky was just as drawn to Steve as the other was to him. On those first few nights when he was alone in STARK Tower, he wondered how he could get to Steve. He was still a bit of a stranger but Bucky still wanted to be with him. He represented the good in Bucky. The conscience and inherent compassion that had been snuffed out was alive every time he looked at Steve. And in the pit of his stomach there was this ache every time they were together. He didn’t understand what it was and why it got worse and worse and especially why now it felt like it physically pained him. He wanted something from Steve but he didn’t know what, he didn’t know at all.

 

Then…

 

\------

 

_Because I’m With You TIl The End Of The Line_

 

\------

 

There was this weird sensation on his face. Warm and slow it wound its way down his cheek. Then there was a little _tink_. Bucky looked down to see a shimmering droplet of water on his metallic arm. What was he doing crying? He looked back at Steve and saw the worry in his eyes. Hell, he looked on the verge of tears too. He realized all he’d ever had was Steve. Both his parents were dead and he was always that orphan no one wanted or noticed. He’d known Steve for a little bit and suddenly, when he parents died, they were alone together. They had this single thing they shared and upon that was built the entire foundation of their friendship. But this, this was more than that. There was something between them Bucky had never had with anyone else and this amazing force just moved him.

 

It came as a surprise to the both of them, really, when Bucky surged forward all at once, crushing Steve’s lips with his own. Steve was reeling, frozen in shock. In Bucky, that aching for Steve grew and grew until he was sobbing, kissing Steve between shaking breaths.

 

Just like every other time, Steve was there for him. He moved on instinct, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shaking frame. His kisses were tender, something secret and special only to be had between the two of them. God, what If he was dreaming? What a cruel plot twist that might have been. It didn’t matter, though, Steve refused to give up this bliss, refused to doubt, whether this was reality or not. If this was the only moment he was allowed he’d take it hands down.

 

Steve held Bucky in a vice grip. It was like he was crumbling before him and the only thing keeping him together were Steve’s arms. He’d be that for Bucky, that wall he could lean on. He’d be anything for Bucky – anything. To see him hurting like this, in this moment, he wanted to be his everything. His hands eventually found their way into his hair. It was soft and Steve made a mental note to remember the feeling of the strands falling through his fingers. Bucky smelled clean, this gentle scent of soap floating his way now that they were so close.

 

Steve loved Bucky, there was no doubt. He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen for him but he knew that, throughout the entire war, he had loved him. He didn’t want to fool himself into depression by thinking about how Bucky felt for him. He just took what he could get. Hurried kisses between missions or nights spent sneaking behind the barracks. He’d loved the way Bucky seemed so concerned when he got hurt. He could still see Bucky thought of him as that vulnerable weakling he constantly had to save. And the one chance Steve got to repay him, he failed in. Everything back then was starkly sober and everything hurt. This sewed closed open wounds, having him here.

 

 Steve’s hands just couldn’t get enough of the feel of him. Every little detail about Bucky body he needed to know and hold on to desperately. Neither of them had really aged but, somehow, they were just boys before. Now they were men. His fingers ghosted over his back, over the scars there and then his ribs and that rigid stomach. He was warm and soft and everything Steve remembered. Then he just felt cold. Bucky hissed and pulled back. Steve just as quickly moved his hand.

 

Their lips all swollen and shiny with spit, they stared at one another again as they caught their breath. Steve had stolen Bucky’s away and hurried panting didn’t seem to help. He felt embarrassed and hot underneath Steve’s honest gaze. His arm, a constant reminded of the allegiance he once held, of the monster they had turned him into – it just made him feel like a freak.

 

Steve had always been Bucky’s best thing. He made him better. Even now, after everything, Steve made him better. Steve brought back the man and pushed away the machine. But he just felt unworthy. Like having his hands on Steve would somehow tarnish how perfect and sparkly he was. He didn’t fit in and if anything this bionic arm made him stand out.

 

“I don’t mind.”, Steve said, moving back in.

 

Bucky glowered wearily, keen on Steve’s movements. He flinched as Steve touched his arms again, ready to run. He watched as, behind his fingertips, trailed smudges that eventually faded away.

 

“ Can you feel anything?”, Steve glanced back up to him and Bucky met his gaze.

 

“ It’s more like a notion.” His voice was void of emotion, “I see therefore I feel. But really, it’s nothing.”

 

He was still part machine.

 

“I wish I could.” Bucky said softly, “To feel you more.”

 

Their fingertips met as Steve pressed his palm up against Bucky’s. He sort of studied them. They were the same size. In his eyes, everything about the two of them was the same. Bucky’s arm made no difference. Steve guided Bucky’s hand to his cheek. Pressing his face into the steel he chuckled.

 

“I’m so glad you’re back, Bucky.”

 

“Well…I’m with you until the end of the line.”

 

Steve didn’t speak as he stood up and lead Bucky towards his bedroom. Words weren’t needed at this point. His apartment was dark, the only light coming from that of the television. They crawled into bed together and Bucky kissed Steve once more. Their bodies meshed together and for once, Bucky felt safe. With his arm draped over Steve’s middle, their breath nestled together as they lay in the dark. Neither needed to say anything, the kiss before had made everything clear. Now it was just nice to be here. Steve listened to Bucky as he fell asleep and wondered when the last time was he had even been able to do so. Bucky’s guard was down and Steve could probably do anything to him and he wouldn’t care. The unreeling of himself in the arms of Captain America was funny, seeing as he’d tried to kill him on more than one occasion. Despite that, it felt like nothing had changed at all. Because nothing had.


End file.
